


A Broken Ticker

by katikat



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-29 05:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13920660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katikat/pseuds/katikat
Summary: A broken heart cannot be fixed with duct tape and a couple paper clips. Missing scene from episode 101. Mac’s POV. (Unbeta'd)





	A Broken Ticker

_The road in the hills above Lake Como, their surveillance van…  
_

_Nikki and the man…_

_Mac will give it to him, the gas. He’ll give it to the man in exchange for Nikki’s life. Because he can get that canister back, he knows he can, but if Nikki dies…. If she dies, then everything will fall apart,_ he  _will fall apart. So, he’ll give to him, Mac_ does  _give it to him, just… please, please, don’t hurt Nikki!_

_But he does, the man does. He shoots her and Nikki falls and Mac screams._

_And then the man shoots Mac and Mac falls and he hits the water, the water of Lake Como, and it hurts and he can’t breathe and he keeps sinking deeper and deeper and deeper still, farther and farther away from light and air and…_ life _._

_He can’t breathe! His chest’s too tight and he can’t draw breath into his starving lungs._

_He can’t breathe!_

“Mac…”

_He can’t breathe!_

“… down, you… calm down…”

 _He can’t_ breathe _!_

“… to me, buddy… you need to…”

_He can’t breathe!_

“Mac!”

He takes a deep wheezing breath, coming back to himself, and looks around wildly: his house, the back porch, Los Angeles spread out down below, covered with a blanket of smog promising a beautiful, fiery orange sunset… He’s home, he’s home…  _home_.

Then he realizes that someone’s holding him from behind, restraining him, not in any aggressive way, that person’s not hurting him, but it doesn’t matter because panic sets in, making his heart race even faster and–

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. Calm down, buddy.  _Shh_ …”

 _Jack_. It’s Jack. And that realization’s enough to make Mac go limp, his knees just give out, and Jack catches him, he doesn’t let him fall. And now he’s propping Mac up instead of restraining him and Mac lets himself be manhandled over to the lawn chair that… they pushed aside.  _Before_. They pushed it aside because–

Jack sits him down slowly, carefully, then he sinks into a crouch in front of Mac and grasps his chin gently but firmly - Jack’s hand is warm and Mac is so cold, cold and shaking, yet he’s also covered with sweat and that doesn’t make any sense! - and he force Mac looking him in the eyes.

“You back with me, hoss?” Jack asks anxiously.

Mac swallows hard - his throat’s parched - and nods. Only then does he realize that Jack’s lip is bloody. “What happened?” Mac croaks out, eyes on the blood dripping down Jack’s chin.

Letting go of Mac, Jack wipes his chin with the back of his hand. “You freaked out on me, is what happened,” he grumbles, and looking down at the blood on his hand, he grimaces. “You landed quite a few punches before I managed to restrain you.”

Mac shakes his head. “I don’t understand,” he whispers.

Jack grips Mac’s knee for balance and says, “Yeah, well, that makes two of us. What’s gotten into you?” He bends his head a little to look Mac better in the eye.

But Mac closes his eyes and turns away. Now, on top of everything else, he feels ashamed. He thought he was ready to start training again, to get back into shape, go back to work, and when Jack insisted that it was too soon, Mac just overruled him, he didn’t listen. And now…

“It was Nikki, wasn’t it?” Jack says in a kind, sympathetic voice.

Mac sighs. “I-I don’t know what happened. One moment, we were sparring, and then I was back there, watching her die and…” He shakes his head helplessly.

Jack says softly, “Look, buddy, I don’t know about that noggin of yours, I feel like a hamster in the wheel most of the time next to you, but I do know how this thing works.” He taps Mac on the chest with his finger, right over his heart. “That ticker’s broken and you can’t fix it with duct tape and a couple paper clips. It doesn’t work like that. You have to let it heal properly or it might never heal right.”

Closing his eyes again, Mac rubs his chest reflexively, feeling the phantom pain there. God, he misses Nikki so bad,  _so bad…_

“And it might not happen today or next week,” Jack continues still softly. “Maybe not even next month. But it will happen, I promise you that, when the time’s right. And until then, you don’t let anyone push you into anything you’re not ready for - not even yourself, you hear me? You take as much time off, from the job, from  _everything_ , if need be, as you need.”

Mac opens his eyes and looks at Jack who’s still crouching down in front of him even though his knees must be killing him. Even though he must be grieving for Nikki, too. Maybe he didn’t love her the way Mac did but she was still his friend, they were all a team.

“But what about you? Till then, I mean?” he asks, admitting with his question - both to himself and to Jack - that Jack’s right. That doesn’t mean that his inability to compartmentalize this time, the way he usually does, doesn’t make him feel like a failure. Like he’s letting his agency and, most importantly,  _Jack_ down.

Jack shrugs. “Eh. Thornton will find something for me to do until you’re ready to come back, I’m sure. You don’t worry about me. You worry about yourself, hoss, you hear me? Because the thing just happened, that flashback of yours? That makes me genuinely concerned.”

Grimacing apologetically, Mac points at his own mouth, indicating Jack’s injury with his gesture. Fortunately, Jack’s split lip stopped bleeding by now. “Sorry… about that.”

“I wasn’t talking about  _that_ ,” Jack says quietly, looking pointedly at Mac.

After a moment, Mac nods and drops his eyes.

“Alright,” Jack whispers and when he continues, getting up, his voice sounds much more boisterous, full of energy, “Now - a beer? I don’t think either of us feels like sparring anymore. And I  _do_ hope you have something I can use to bring down the swelling” –he touches his lip gingerly, wrinkling his nose– “I really don’t want to look like Donald Duck, driving home!”

Smiling a little, Mac gets up, too. “Yeah, I have an actual ice pack.”

“I didn’t expect any less from you, you boy scout…”

It takes three whole months before Mac’s at all ready to come back. And then everything changes.


End file.
